


Ticklish

by trashcanofobsessions



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Proceed with caution, ROMANCE SO SWEET IT'LL MAKE YOUR TEETH ROT, WARNING: REACHING CRITICAL LEVELS OF FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 19:51:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15323028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcanofobsessions/pseuds/trashcanofobsessions
Summary: Just a oneshot based off my headcanon that a lot of caretaker androids, specifically the ones that deal with kids, are programmed with being ticklish, cause kids love that stuff.820 words





	Ticklish

It's a quiet morning. Simon had gotten up early and enjoyed the sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows before starting to cook some eggs.

He hums as he shakes the pan with a faint sizzle. As a caretaker android, the desire to do simple, domestic things was ingrained in his very coding. He figures he might as well enjoy it.

He hears soft footsteps behind him and glances over his shoulder to see Markus yawning behind him. The morning sunlight outlines him in gold, and Simon feels his systems stutter and lag for a moment at the sight.

"Good morning!" Simon greets cheerily, turning back to the eggs.

"You know we don't have to eat, right?" Markus teases gently. He buries his face in Simon's shoulder and nuzzles his neck, earning a sharp gasp.

"I just - ah! - like cooking," Simon says, squirming away from Markus' teasing nuzzles. "Old programs die hard."

He feels Markus smiling into his shoulder and fights to keep a smile off his own lips. His hands brush up Simon's front, lifting his shirt up slightly before curling his arms around his waist. Simon shivers at the contact, and then Markus' fingers wisp against his sides and that's when it happened.

He spasms in the other's arms and pulls himself free with a shriek.

Markus tilts his head slightly, mismatched eyes narrowed and calculating. "What was that, Simon?"

"N-nothing!" Simon ducks his head almost guiltily.

Markus' gaze goes glassy as he stares into space, researching something with his databases. He return to reality with a blink, and smirks at Simon.

"You're ticklish."

"No!" Simon protests immediately, too quickly. "I'm not - agh!"

He breaks off with a yelp as Markus steps forward and jabs his hands at his sides. Stifling a bubble of giggles, Simon stumbles to the side to escape his hands.

Markus glances up at him, one eyebrow slightly cocked, that dangerous glint in his eyes that makes Simon's scripts stop dead in their tracks. He has just enough time to appreciate the sexiness of that expression before he takes one step closer, and Simon begins to run.

Footsteps are heavy behind him, gaining on him. The RK200 is far faster than Simon's outdated model, so Simon will have to out-think him instead of outrun him. He manages a hairpin turn around a coffee table, earning a few feet of leeway. The kitchen approaches, and he runs right into the counter and rebounds off it smoothly, sprinting in the opposite direction as Markus slams into the counter behind him. A few more feet between him and his chaser. Pushing his biocomponents to their limit, he picks up speed and manages to clear the entire couch longways in a single jump. 

Markus mirrors his impressive leap easily, still gaining on him. Simon is running out of house to flee to. He begins a large turn before the front door, and has just turned back to face the kitchen when he feels fingers grasp desperately at his shirt sleeve.

Then suddenly, Markus has caught up to him, and Simon resigns himself to his fate.

He sees a flash of his mischievous grin before he's on the ground, giggling uncontrollably.

Markus tickles him until the PL600 can't do anything but flail weakly and gasp for breath between his laughter. While androids don't need to breathe for oxygen-intake, it is a great method to help cool down their internal systems. Finally, he leans back, satisfied.

"You . . . you . . ." Simon pants indignantly from the floor.

"What?" Markus counters innocently. He smiles softly to himself, a genuine smile, and Simon finds himself smiling against his will.

"You probably made me burn the eggs," complains Simon.

Markus laughs quietly, a sound that could cure cancer. He stands up and extends a hand to Simon to help him up, who takes it gratefully and stumbles to his feet.

"Good thing we don't need to eat," he pointed out.

"Plenty of the humans we know do," Simon retorted primly. " _I_ wanted to give them a real breakfast."

Markus ruffled Simon's hair affectionately. "I can't believe you're tic-"

"Oh for -" Simon interrupts him, exasperated, and pulls him into a rough kiss, just to shut him up. Markus melts immediately, wrapping his arms around Simon's back to pull him closer.

All too soon, Simon pulls away, the kiss leaving them both dizzy.

"Now, I'm going to try to salvage the eggs, and if  _you_ messed them all up, I will . . . I will . . . I'll do something!" Simon attempts to threaten him.

Markus raises an eyebrow. "I look forward to it."

 

The eggs weren't salvageable.

 

"What a shame," Markus drawls, peering over Simon's shoulder. He leans closer, lacing his fingers with Simon's. "How could I make it up to you?" he asks, voice husky.

Simon shivers. That deep whisper always gets him. He leans backward against Markus' chest and smirks up at him. "I can think of a few ways."


End file.
